Review: Godzilla

(Dir: Gareth Edwards, 2014)

There's a formula to big budget movies centered on some sort of monster / alien / strange mechanised creature (delete as appropriate), threatening to destroy the Earth and mankind. You may have noticed it in the past. Mankind is usually in some way responsible for this threat arising. It appears and destroys without much warning. There's some sort of scientific solution which only one hero can manage to impossibly deliver and save us all, inevitably with bare seconds to spare. So it's nice when conventions are playfully and positively tweaked. Say hello to Godzilla, a film not content with merely being a by-the-numbers destructathon.

That last statement sums up the divided reaction Godzilla has been met with. There are the people who inevitably only want to see a ridiculous amount of destruction and firepower aimed at this monster whilst he's doing his darndest to level our cities. These people appear to have been less than happy with this film as a result, but I suspect the forthcoming Transformers: Age of Extinction will do enough to satiate that desire they hold. Epic decimation of cities is a secondary concern in Godzilla. The focus and framing is on the actual characters which quite frankly is how any good film should be. But, if you've ever seen Gareth Edwards superb debut film Monsters, this should come as no surprise. In that case the character-centric approach was a result of the miniscule budget, but here on this grander scale, well it's just such a pleasant surprise for the audience to be trusted in such a way.

Yet it's not quite as simple as that. The characters we're presented with are perfectly watchable but don't give many reasons for us to really care what happens to them. Really anyone could be in the shoes of either Aaron Taylor-Johnson or Elizabeth Olsen. It's the likes of Bryan Cranston, who is always fun, and Ken Watanabe's kind of intriguing one-note performance that bring personality to the table. The story runs the course of predictability (the scientist no-one wants to listen too, the hero continually in the right place, etc), yet in doing so still manages to take a route that feels more akin to the original films. I'd imagine most of the people complaining about the approach here have never seen one of these, although admittedly it has been many years since I watched the likes of Godzilla vs Megalon, Mothra vs Godzilla and Godzilla on Monster Island, but this new film is definitely hewing far closer to those than the likes of Roland Emmerich's bastardized 1998 film. And all the better for it.

Godzilla is really a feast for the eyes and ears thanks to some fantastic cinematography and the use of sound and music. Take the HALO jump scene of soldiers parachuting into the dusky, dust-choked, monster-ravaged city, to the haunted strains of Ligeti's Requiem, whilst very cleverly utilising the heavy breathing first person perspective. That is the pure viscera of cinema. Edwards has found himself a massive toolbox to play with so across the whole film has amped up what he'd previously tried to achieve on such a limited scale. The creature reveal is effectively done too. Sure it takes a long while to see the world's most famous kaiju in all his splendor, but the tease is exactly part of the fun as parts of him slowly come to light. There's been criticism that he's a bit too fat looking but honestly, so what? This feels like Gojira and that's what matters.

By refusing to stick to formula and frustrating people in the process, this latest version of Godzilla stands out in the best possible way amongst the pantheon of big-budget films intent on leveling this world we've built. Sure it could use some better characters and writing, but please, give us more films where the monsters and destruction they cause are the background to actual characters. It's the kind of film where the camera pulls away when other films might be having their money shot and I applaud that. Haven't we seen enough films that devolve into an hour of mindless destruction and explosions? Less is more and that's something that's frequently forgotten in this modern age - just look at how the most effective horror films tend to be those that let your mind run amok rather than those that bare all quickly. The same applies here. Mix in the stunning visuals, sound and sense of faithfulness to the history of the character and we're left with a hell of an enjoyable film. Writing this has really made me want to watch it again - what does that say!?

Review: Transcendence

(Dir: Wally Pfister, 2014)

The idea of the singularity is nothing new in filmic terms. Terminator 2 may have couched the omnipresent fear of artificial intelligent self-awareness in the threateningly didactic term "judgement day", whilst hammering the point home using the crushingly iconic image of gun toting silver mechanical skeletons clambering over human skulls, meaning this is something we should fear. Or is it? If you choose to believe how Transcendence frames this idea, using that very word as an alternate descriptor weighted with positive implications, you might believe it's a friendlier proposition. Or perhaps it just seems that way when the sentience in control is Johnny Depp.

This is the core idea that frames Transcendence, serving as a catalyst for a handful of other intriguing ideas, not all of which are worth focusing on, resulting in a film that finds itself becoming too easily lost. As time progresses and we find ourselves deeply ensconced in this century with technology taking an increasingly prescient role, the reality of machine based self-awareness feels strikingly close. Take the fear created by Skynet back in 1991 - we've always seemed at least a lifetime away from that happening, whilst comparatively the artificially appealing Samantha in Her seems not only attainable rather than fantastical, but desirable in the impact it could have on our lives. If that concept hadn't been set as an alternative love story, surely dystopia would've reigned supreme. The point is we're getting a lot closer to making this fear real so we should be exploring it more now. Yet there's something reductive about imagining this coming from a person whose had their consciousness uploaded so they exist beyond the corporeal. Or perhaps it just feels like a fantastical step too far. Early in the film we're introduced to an A.I. called P.I.N.N. and I can't help but wonder if letting that run amok would've been more satisfying instead, rather than the resulting nano tech and it's slightly odd dispersal method which continually feels like a step too far. At least there's a little bit of intrigue to come from the different perspectives of is "he" bad or is "he" actually good, even if the ending leaves you with mixed levels of satisfaction.

To my eyes the most interesting idea within the whole film is a sorely underexplored concept seemingly only to exist as a function of the plot: the rebel group R.I.F.T. led by Kate Mara's Bree who are inspired by the words and ideas of Paul Bettany's Max Waters. This is a group who see where the ship is heading and will do what they must to halt its inevitable progression. Dissolution of the internet and our perpetual connectedness is a realistic solution for them, and it's here the film could've used more focus. The internet appears to be the greatest creation of modern times but do we still even appreciate the deleterious effects it may have on us, our children or society as a whole? It's intriguing to think how we might cope going back in time an equivalent twenty plus years by having such unparalleled access to information and expression yanked from us, whilst living with technologies no longer capable of fulfilling most of their intended functions. Would it be a positive for society and how desperate would the scramble to get it all back look? How lost would the youth weened on this feel? Beyond the initial fear of losing all this "something" that doesn't really exist, it's hugely fascinating. Thus it's frustrating that the film touches on this concept but really chooses to keep it at arms length in favour of a failed human story and generic thoughts of control.

Further frustration is bred from the presence of Mr. Depp. There was a time when the prospect of seeing Depp in a film was a reassurance that it would be intriguing and quirky, but damn has he overplayed that card now. This may be a contentious opinion for his fans out there, but he has not been good in anything since the turn of the century. Just look at his filmography on IMDb and you'll realise that the only satisfying work he's done in the last 14 years is voicework (The Corpse Bride, Rango & Frankenweenie). His physical presence on screen has become a reason not to watch something, and when he loses the annoying quirk he's just bland. Transcendence is no difference - his character is irritating from the outset and when he's later traversing the line of is his digital self actually good or bad, the smug, righteous, self-satisfaction he oozes makes you wish you wouldn't see him on screen in anything again. The rest of the cast is a mixed bag. Neither the aforementioned Mara or Bettany get enough screen time, whilst Morgan Freeman feels well out of place as some sort of tech / AI guru. Rebecca Hall is usually an interesting actress but her character suffers from a myopia that makes her feel too one dimensional. Another case of good bunch of actors not adding up to much thanks to the material.

The one strength of the film, which was always expected thanks to director Wally Pfister's pedigree, is that it's visually very enticing. But when you're Christopher Nolan's go to cinematographer that's the least we should expect from your first film. But it shows that Pfister has yet to work out how to actually tell a story. It's clear why he'd choose this as a directorial debut as there are good ideas lurking within, but they're never fully realised whilst the structure and way the story evolves always feels unfocused. It's a shame as prior to release Transcendence showed all the hallmarks of a film worth getting excited about. If and when it happens, the singularity will inevitably be a lot more memorable.

Review: Captain America: The Winter Soldier

(Dir: Anthony Russo & Joe Russo, 2014)

Note: Unusually for reviews I write, this one contains spoilers. If you care about not knowing important plot details for both Captain America films, don't read!

Captain America is not a man for this modern age. The Avengers obfuscated this reality thanks to the assembled ensemble, but Captain America: The Winter Soldier makes this strikingly clear. Unfortunately it's not exactly a surprise as it was a fear left lingering from the end of Captain America: The First Avenger. Joe Johnston's film was the anomaly in the run of first Marvel films, set in the 1940s many decades behind where this universe was elsewhere establishing itself, but absolutely the right period in which to play, with this era being the defining essence of the character. The First Avenger plays out like a classic, fun, adventure serial, albeit with a slightly shiny gloss and tech that's unbefitting of the time, but this nature forms its core strength. It feels a step aside from the soulless, generic cgi-worshipping modern action films that are now frequently thrust upon our screens, with the effects actually serving the story rather than being the story. And this classic edge makes a tangible difference.

The stoicism exuding from Cap (Chris Evans) alongside his core belief that he can make a difference even in his weedy Steve Rodgers frame, and not just can make a difference but should try regardless of the consequences, define him. This was a prevailing attitude of the time, where service to your country was duty and honour of the highest order. But attitudes change over time as the horrors and falsities of war truly reveal themselves and it becomes a diminished notion shaded in futility. And so the character's unwavering commitment to this ideal starts to feel almost alien in this day and age. Even his name now represents an ideology of patriotism that's looked upon in derision in a century defined by perpetual globalism. Where is his place now? This feeling lingers. Winter Soldier could've made things worse by running with the whole fish-out-of-water schtick but it wisely downplays this, not least because Thor so thoroughly nailed it. But the few small jokes only remind that this is a man stuck in the wrong time who can never make it home. Likewise a thread of love life jokes never sit right thanks to the weight of the continually burgeoning relationship with Peggy (Hayley Atwell) from The First Avenger, with it's sweet tentative steps coming from a place of genuine hope and subtle longing, rather than the shallow seeming implications here.

A compounding problem of bringing Cap into today's world is that here and now he seems like nothing more than a glorified strongman. Back in the forties he was a game changer. No-one else out there was like him or could do would he could do. He was unique, the definition of a hero and the villains he had to go up against felt similarly matched to his abilities. In the context of his modern compatriots, what does he offer compared to the technologically and firepower enhanced Tony Stark or the radiation / biologically induced craze of Hulk, let alone an actual god? Hell the cunning and guile of both Black Widow and Hawkeye are at least on a par with him, never mind their combat skills. Where does he really fit in this team? What's unique about him except for perhaps the positive attitude he brings? And then there are his new enemies who are next level in their dedication to technology. Sure this was also the Red Skull's forte, but put into context what was available to that megalomaniac compared to the sheer scale of what Cap needs to take down in Winter Soldier. Seventy years of the world growing and developing and he's moved forward how? The ruthlessness of a powerful, mechanically adorned foe feels about the only suitable match-up here.

But nothing of the villainous aspect in Winter Soldier feels right. What it did not need was a rehashing of seventy years ago, especially arising in a contrived way for only Cap to deal with, despite it's fundamental impact on S.H.I.E.L.D.. Modern day Hydra, the unnecessary return of Bucky as the titular Winter Soldier - are Marvel feeling that devoid of ideas despite the wealth of source material available at their fingers? Hydra was ultimately defined by the Red Skull / Johann Schmidt, creating an iconic villain that unequivocally radiates maleficence. On what level is Robert Redford's Alexander Pierce remotely comparable, let alone a compelling bad guy? The clichéd undercurrent of is he / isn't he bad doesn't help allowing motivations to appear hazy, but then there's always something about watching the magnetic Redford. The biggest crime is bringing back Toby Jones' Dr Zola as a bizarre all-knowing digitised head-on-a-screen - the reveal is the epitome of facepalm, utterly awkward plotting. Hydra's presence is a distraction. It's an unnecessary plot device to allow connection to the first film. It flat out does not work.

The First Avenger revealed a rich history surrounding the Marvel universe, with Howard Stark being integral to the initiative that created Captain America. He and the core team from this film are, as is inferred in Winter Soldier, the ones who ultimately established the organisation of S.H.I.E.L.D., but this inexplicably gets rapidly skated over. What's most frustrating is that there's so much great potential for storytelling within this idea, from both the perspective of the characters and the setting, that to leave us with such a bland story with stupid plotting is just squandering your assets. Cap doesn't feel like the most important part of this film, S.H.I.E.L.D. does. The attempts to set up this aspect of the universe in Iron Man 2 may have felt overdone, but here it just bogs everything down. As there's now a tv series bearing the name S.H.I.E.L.D. it's only an inevitability that focus drifts that way, but who other than the most hardened geeks are really concerned about their politics? I'm not when it comes at the expense of the storytelling. It's arguable that a benefit of this direction is the increased focus on Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), who has always been a semi-intriguing if fleeting character of the series. This gives him probably the most screen time of all the films, yet nothing is really revealed and he still feels like an enigma devoid of personality. Is he dead or is he really alive? Does it matter when the only reason we have to care is that he's played by Samuel Motherfuckin' Jackson?

Ultimately it appears we have The Avengers to specifically blame for how Captain America: The Winter Soldier has turned out, since this feels like an attempt at creating a mini version. And that's not a good thing. Cap clearly can't work alone in this modern age, so he has an assembled team - this means more Black Widow (Scarlett Johanssen) but she proves to be less interesting here (I still stand by my assertion that we need to see a Black Widow / Hawkeye back story film), whilst Anthony Mackie's Falcon serves as a very basic imitation of Iron Man but also fulfilling the inevitable drama and symbolism of Bucky's return and Cap needing a partner. Cobie Smoulder's Maria Hill comes out to play again and still seems to be there solely to move the plot along. Then there's the very nature of Winter Soldier - the blandness that typifies a lot of modern big budget action films that also fail when it comes to offering decent character development, which is basically The Avengers summed up. Of course the special effects look amazing and the destruction of the heliships is fantastic work, but that alone does not make an action scene more enjoyable. If the destruction feels soulless and the stakes seem forced then so what. This was endemic with The Avengers and continues here, but more importantly the essence of fun that was prevalent within The First Avenger is sorely lacking. It's all too po-faced leaving a taste of casual indifference.

That there is a lot of criticism laid at the feet of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but that's not say it's actually bad. It's still an enjoyable couple of hours and Cap remains one the most likeable characters within the Marvel universe. The problem is that being such a fan of The First Avenger and seeing all its strengths laid to waste is just so frustrating. In an ideal world the end of that first film would not have forced Cap into freezing as he stops the Red Skull, allowing more time to develop interesting and fun stories in his rightful era before he ends up on ice, including the establishing of S.H.I.E.L.D.. But alas it's not to be. This is bland, easy entertainment lacking the richness of both setting and characterisation that the first offered. Unfortunately it's like The Avengers all over again, and further proof after Iron Man Three and Thor: The Dark World, that perhaps it's the more unique and out-there Marvel characters like Ant-Man that we should instead be looking forward to seeing on screen.

Read my short reviews of the first wave of Marvel films here.
Read my review of The Avengers here.
Read my review of Iron Man Three here.

Review: The Zero Theorem

(Dir: Terry Gilliam, 2013)

There’s something reassuring about Terry Gilliam, regardless of the varying nature of his films. He resides in that rarefied bubble of filmmakers interested not only in creating something wildly inventive and generally out-there, but ensuring his work is full of actual ideas. And even though this means his films can be an acquired taste just slightly off the mainstream radar, he still gets to make them at a level analogous to his vision whilst attracting a host of interesting actors. The Zero Theorem continues this trend.

The most striking element of this new Gilliam film is how it feels cut from the same cloth as his oft considered masterpiece Brazil. A similarly Orwellian fear of surveillance runs through the film as "Management" is omnipresent, continually observing and continually setting seemingly impossible deadlines for Qohen (Christoph Waltz). His job, manipulating data in an attempt to complete the zero theorem, an impossible task that will seemingly prove the fate of the universe and the meaningless of life, has an air of gamification that belies its suggested importance. This appears to be the nature of work of the future - glorified 3D block-building games completed under strict time pressures in video arcade environments. It seems wearying.

This search for meaning in life is the essence of the film. Qohen is waiting for a phone call believing it will explain the meaning of his life. An answer to the inevitable nothingness. His indefatigable faith that this will happen drives the man and pushes him into a pattern of repetition that he seems unable to escape from. He can’t see the futility of the situation and how this faith has led him down the path of a life not lived. The fact he lives monk-like and works out of a derelict church, the primary setting for the vast majority of the film, makes it akin to being continually hit in the face with religious allegory, not to mention the pointlessness of faith.

But there’s something about the set design – this location is fascinating and almost functions like a character in itself, as its owner co-habits with pigeons, uses the font as his kitchen sink and finds a camera in the place of a crucified deity’s head. Outside this run-down paradise, the futuristic world is hyper-realised neon kitsch competing with grey European city. It never really sits right but thankfully we don’t get to see too much of it.

We lose further balance when taken into a world of virtual reality. Attempts by Mélanie Thierry’s Bainsley to seduce Qohen lead to a CGI beach, a place where he can seemingly find solace away from his search whilst actually “connecting” with another person, but it’s over-stylised to death and never feels anything less than awkwardly cheesy. The only saving grace of these scenes are Thierry’s alluring charms, but her character is never able to step beyond cliché. Love, as it were in the place of The Zero Theorem, is nothing but a construct, bought and fated to be virtual in its reality.

Waltz effectively shoulders the responsibility of leading the film (much as he continually keeps proving his worth as an actor). Qohen is imbued with a frenzied mania as he slowly loses control that sees him refer to himself as “we”, an alternately endearing and irritating affliction, whilst intertwining a sense of fatalism with his determination of faith. He brings a physicality to the role alongside his usual loquaciousness. This gets balanced by a comedic edge from supporting roles by Tilda Swinton, David Thewlis and Lucas Hedges - all are inevitably quirky in their own right with each adding a needed different flavour.

Whilst The Zero Theorem is intriguing and a mostly enjoyable film, it never gets remotely close to transcending most of Gilliam’s past work. It does itself no favours by leading to a flat ending that suggests both Gilliam and writer Pat Rushin had no clue where they were actually taking the story. Yet it remains one of those films that seems like a rarer and rarer experience as time passes, and that it possesses ideas and is willing to throw them about (success of them all be damned) is its real strength. It still feels like any sort of mad inventiveness from Gilliam should be celebrated in these days of creeping filmic unoriginality, regardless of whether this only moderately delivers.

Review: Her

(Dir: Spike Jonze, 2013)

Technology as panacea for real life relationships. Physicality lost to emotionality. A partner effectively existing solely in ones head is a form of madness. The permanence of artificial intelligence versus the temporality of corporeal existence. The ideology of monogamous relationships transcended by connectivity to digital networks. The slow shift of power as technology rises beyond it's subservient purpose. Redefining existence to account for the displacement of the physical. The actual meaning of 'I love you' when uttered by a sentient operating system. Setting ourselves up for the same disappointment from technology that we receive from humanity. The definition of "shared experiences" which bond two people, when one is living it and one is observing it. Hell is other people - or an AI that bases it's opinion of you on every aspect of your digital profile and communication, a depth of knowledge no person could ever reach. The value of an emotional connection with something considered "real" only in digital terms. Resurrection as a reality, of sorts.

 

Beauty is ragged, real, crystalline. People are dichotomous fuck-ups. The clean, crisp warmth of the entitled side of the Los Angeles of the near future. Beaches with a decidedly retro hue. The skill required to act effectively against a disembodied voice. The satisfyingly simple humour of cute, sweary characters in advanced computer games. The extreme reaction to dealing with overwhelming constant connectedness and communication. And of life as a whole. Print will never truly die. Dead kitty. The hollowness of well-intentioned words farmed off to someone else to compose. A mass of people ceding public communication to continual dialogue with an ear piece. The dysphoria when technology abandons us. Or is it relief?

These are some of the thoughts that arose during and after the beautifully judged Her. Or you could of course see it as just a simple love story.

Review: RoboCop

(Dir: José Padilha, 2014)

Forever doomed. The original RoboCop is hardly an untouchable holy grail of cinema, hell no such thing actually exists, but is it a film actually worth trying to improve or reimagine today? OK, forever doomed is perhaps a little too harshly pessimistic for this remake. The storytelling, the humanity, action, ideas and satire of Paul Verhoeven's 1987 original make you question the need. But visually... well there we have another argument. Peter Weller's man machine aside it's a film that looks incredibly dated, even ten years on from it's release that was the case, notably because of the stop motion effects and some unusually unkind future-as-seen-through-the-eyes-of-the-eighties aesthetics. So yes visually, it needed updating, but story wise what's the point if you can't improve? 

Put simply, this remake does not succeed on improving on the original as a whole. However it is a blessing that 2014 RoboCop comes at us with it's own ideas and these at least feel more rounded for the age we now live in. It weighs itself down too heavily on the political front with Samuel L. Jackson's proselytising on The Novak Element, slowing the film down despite the intriguing mocking of such single-mindedly opinionated broadcasters. The robotics aspect and need for marketing/media spin feel more relevant if underdeveloped, likewise the barely touched upon (after five minutes) position of America trying to control the world remotely. It's commendable these ideas are here but more of the fluff could've happily been lost to develop them further. Joel Kinneman makes an adequate RoboCop thanks to being thoroughly wooden, but that just means that when he's Alex Murphy he practically vanishes into the background since he's that bland. Peter Weller brought a fascinating level of pathos to the original character. I never once cared about whether Kinneman's Murphy remembered, resolved and reconnected with his picture perfect family. 

 

Things get worse on the villainy side. It's always a pleasure watching Michael Keaton on the big screen, here as OCP head honcho Sellars, but it took until the final minutes before he seemed like someone we were supposed to hate. And what of the perfunctory bad guy Antoine Vallon, who might as well have not even existed in the story he was that inconsequential? Let me just say; Clarence J. Boddicker, Dick Jones, Bob Morton, Emil - these are bad guys of interesting and varying shades. These are the people we want to see a policing man / machine brutally taking down. And the threat and menace of these guys is palpable thanks to the unrestrained ultraviolence permeating throughout the original in a Detroit that feels like it needs saving by a super cop. That's not to bemoan the lack of this intense violence in the remake, but just to point out that it serves it's purpose very effectively and the lack of it here contributes to a film with no threat and no sense of pent up satisfaction at the denoument.

Despite these criticisms the films works well visually. I had no qualms with the redesign of the suit, in fact I like the black version and it fits our present perceived futuristic aesthetic. The central control centre, first person perspective and heads up views all looked great, and scenes like the blacked out, thermal imaging gunfight had a heightened sense of intrigue. The ED-209's looked decidedly effective too, a world away from the less menacing stop motion versions. But this is what we should expect these days and is the remake's primary strength.

But does that alone make the remake worth it? RoboCop (2014) is a pleasantly entertaining modern action movie that looks slick, justifying the one reason why the original needed updating. But it doesn't match up on any other level so we're left with a film that's impossible to watch without mentally comparing it to the superior original. And the little throwbacks such as one liners and music cues just hammer home what we're missing, rather than seeming as affectionate as the filmmakers would like. RoboCop (2014) was never forever doomed, but it doomed itself with too many faults that never let it rise beyond unmemorable fun. Hopefully one day studios and producers will realise it's bad films with good ideas that are the ones that really need remaking.

Review: Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit

(Dir: Kenneth Branagh, 2013)

There's a sense of desperation with how the American studio system seems so keen to get a Jack Ryan franchise properly off the ground. Surely this is rooted in a need to replicate the money-printing, decades long success of the Bond films, as what do the Americans have to offer as an equivalent? The Mission: Impossible films are fun but not much more, whilst the superb Bourne franchise regenerates itself. So we do this dance again with the fifth Jack Ryan film in twenty four years and the fourth actor to play the man. This version, Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, opts for full reboot which is a wise decision when the characters history has been so fractured and twelve years have past since he last appeared in the guise of Ben Affleck in the hardly memorable The Sum of All Fears. 

We now have a Jack Ryan more fit this modern world and a forced ideology that he's radicalised into service by the events of September 11th 2001. This also means a youthful Ryan, someone that audiences might find more credible and theoretically want to watch, although I'm not convinced Chris Pine has got himself to that position in audience minds yet, regardless of the Star Trek franchise. He proves to be adequate in the role as the focus of the character is more on brains than brawn and he brings a certain all-American charisma and drive. Yet compared to a young Alec Baldwin (The Hunt For Red October) or Harrison Ford (Patriot Games and Clear and Present Danger) he still feels pretty vanilla.

On the other hand Kevin Costner's role in the story, which proves to be bigger than expected, is one of two strengths. He convinces in the older, mentorish role which he seems ready to grow into now (see also Man of Steel) whilst also getting to wield a sniper rifle. Hopefully he takes on more of these roles in the future. Kenneth Branagh turns out to be the other strength, but solely from an acting perspective. His Russian accented Viktor Cherevin is of course slightly over-played in a very obvious way, but is quite fun to watch regardless of whether he truly lacks menace or not. The film is most enjoyable when either he or Costner are on screen, and at it's worst when Keira Knightley awkwardly bumbles her way through an American accent and the contrived nature of her character's presence. 

Limitations are also felt by Branagh's perfunctory directing, despite it being fairly snappily paced and utilising geopolitics and economics for a potentially interesting set-up. There never feels like much threat and most good scenes are undermined by stupid plotting and feeling like they could just be so much better. It's pleasing to see a return of the the classic Cold War enemy of spy films, particularly after A Good Day to Die Hard completely screwed up it's Russian setting last year, but it's still not a patch on what we've seen done in the past with either Jack Ryan films or spy thrillers in general. Matters aren't helped by some shockingly bad cinematography, with that modern "need" for action to be edited uncontrollably fast making scenes indiscernible, whilst some strange ideas about focus when it comes to the Russian scenery bemuse. 

All this leads to a thoroughly average film that never feels like it gets out of second gear, even if it still manages to offer some entertainment. Perhaps this is growing pains, but there's potential for another Jack Ryan film that could offer what really works in spy films, if Chris Pine can develop the character and we're given a more exciting and adventurous story. Oh, and no more of Keira Knightley's character, please!